


Days 11, 16, and 20

by marvel_onomus



Series: A month of whump 2020 [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Irondad, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, amow 2020, whumpmonth 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24002947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_onomus/pseuds/marvel_onomus
Summary: He couldn’t remember when they switched to torture, dredging up his deepest fears into his own personal horror movie. He wondered why, if they were trying to chip away at his sanity until he broke and gave up what they wanted, or so he’d be so relieved at the next illusion of rescue, he wouldn’t question it. Or maybe it was because he couldn’t pull himself out of it as easily, giving them more time to root around in his brain before it finally fried for good.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: A month of whump 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729459
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	1. Screaming

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! This was written for the month of whump challenge that can be found on my tumblr @marvel-ous-shitposts under the tags #whumpmonth 2020, and #amow 2020. I wrote them in April, and am posting them here now that they're all finished.

_Peter was trapped, his limbs pinned by the rubble of the warehouse, his home-made mask half-submerged in the water puddling below him._   
_He gasped for breath, he had to get out, he needed to get out or he was going to die, alone and trapped beneath the consequences of his own failure._   
_He opened his mouth to scream for help, to beg for help, knowing it was futile._   
_No one was coming to save him._

Peter forced his eyes open to the cold cinderblock room, his head pounding. He leaned as far back as he could from where his arms were chained, tilting his head against the wall.   
“It’s not going to work,” he said to the ceiling, “I know what you’re doing.”  
He didn’t, actually, but he had a pretty good guess. They were digging around in his mind for something, probably the codes to FRIDAY or anything they could leverage against Tony Stark.   
They had started by trying to trick him, making him think he’d escaped, or the Avengers had come to rescue him, the illusions becoming more and more realistic each time. But Peter Parker wasn’t stupid, he always knew that something was off, he could feel it.  
He couldn’t remember when they switched to torture, dredging up his deepest fears into his own personal horror movie. He wondered why, if they were trying to chip away at his sanity until he broke and gave up what they wanted, or so he’d be so relieved at the next illusion of rescue, he wouldn’t question it. Or maybe it was because he couldn’t pull himself out of it as easily, giving them more time to root around in his brain before it finally fried for good.  
Judging by the pain in his head that worsened every time he broke an illusion, it was probably the third option.   
Not that it really mattered anyway. What Peter did know was that any way he spun it, he was going down with the ship no matter what.   
Something strange and broken simmered in his chest, a wild, unhinged laugh tearing through him. He grinned at the cinderblock with the kind of freedom that only comes from being damned.   
“It’s not going to work,” he muttered to himself this time. “It’s not going to work.”  
His head throbbed, and he let his eyes slide shut, waiting for sleep or the next illusion, whichever came first. He didn’t care enough to wonder which it would be.  
No one was coming to save him.


	2. Decieved

Tony ripped the reinforced door off its hinges, bracing himself as best he could for what he’d find. It had been nearly four weeks since Peter was taken, and the thought of the kid kidnapped and hurt for nearly four whole weeks made bile rise in Tony’s stomach.   
He threw the door to the side with a clatter, then swung back around to the room, his eyes finally landing on Peter.  
The kid was slumped against the wall, his arms chained to a support beam. His eyes were closed, but his gaunt face was pinched in the same way that his expression always twisted when he was in pain.   
“Peter?”  
The kid shifted, then blinked his eyes open, a defeated kind of sadness overtaking his expression. “It’s not gonna work.”  
Tony frowned, confusion mingling with the fear in his chest. “Peter, kid, c’mon, we gotta get you out of here.”   
“It’s not going to work,” Peter repeated, a defiant edge in his voice. His eyes were glassy, glaring straight through Tony.   
“What’s not going to work, kid?”   
The kid grinned an unnerving, manic smile, something completely broken settling in his eyes as he moved to look directly at Tony’s face. “This isn’t real.”  
Tony’s heart plummeted at Peter’s words, and he gaped, floundering for something to say. “Kid-“  
Peter shook his head, his crazed smile falling into a deep, creased sadness. “You’re not real,” he mumbled, voice on the edge of breaking as he turned his stare back to the wall.   
“Peter,” Tony forced his voice into a gentle tone, pushing back the sinking panic, “I’m real, kid, I’m here.” He kept talking as he reached out and slowly set his hand on Peter’s shoulder.   
The kid shut his eyes, tears starting to roll down his face as he leaned into the contact. Tony steadied him, shifting so that he could wrap his arms around Peter in a tight hug. Peter slumped into him, all of the fight dissolving.   
“I got you, Pete, I’m here. I got you.” 


	3. Broken

Tony stood beside the door to Peter’s room in the med-bay, hand on the doorknob. Peter had been sleeping when he’d left, Dr. Cho pulling him out of the room to explain the damage Peter’s captors had done.   
He’d already known some of it, that they’d been ransacking the kid’s brain with a rudimentary version of the framework, that they’d been trying to break him, showing him illusions of being saved, and when that didn’t work, torturing him with his worst fears. But he’d thought that the damage was all mental, that the paranoia and confusion was a lingering side effect of the illusions they’d subjected Peter to.   
His hand clenched around the doorknob as Cho’s word’s echoed in his mind, anger and nausea constricting around his stomach like a vice. Apparently, the knockoff framework wasn’t up to code, because it had done permanent damage to Peter’s brain.  
Tony pushed down the urge to run and grab a suit, hunt down every last person involved and make them die a slow and painful death. Instead, he opened the door.  
Peter was awake, sitting up with his knees pulled up to his chest and a blank expression on his face. He didn’t even blink at the sound of the door opening, just kept staring at the same spot on the wall.  
Tony steeled himself, then walked over to sit down in the chair beside Peter, not saying anything. They sat in silence for a minute before the kid slowly turned his head, acknowledging Tony’s presence.  
“Hey, bud,” Tony kept his voice soft, as though just speaking would send the kid running. Peter shut his eyes, keeping them closed for a minute like he was testing whether the world would still be there when he opened them.   
“Is this real?” The kid’s voice was shaky.  
“Yeah, kid, this is real. I’m here.”   
Peter opened his eyes, which were red and watery. He scanned the room slowly, surveying every detail. Then his face scrunched like he was in pain and he gave up, resting his head on his knees.   
“Does your head hurt, buddy?”  
Peter nodded, and Tony felt the familiar anger stab at his chest. Ignoring it, he reached out his hand, hesitantly, gently carding it through Peter’s hair in an attempt to comfort the kid. Peter closed his eyes, and they sat like that for a while until Peter’s expression smoothed out.   
For a second, Tony thought that the kid might’ve fallen asleep. But then he blinked his eyes open, glancing blankly around the room.  
“Is this real?”  
Tony froze, an awful kind of despair sinking into his chest.  
“It’s real, buddy. I’m here.”


End file.
